Experimental Danger: A Bad Day in the Lab
by Marvelous Winchester
Summary: In the city that never sleeps, Tony Stark works the night away. While testing some new tech in the lab, Tony is injured. His team has his back, and he decides that it's not too bad to have a team of superheroes at home (even if they sometimes put the empty carton of milk back in the refrigerator).
1. Chapter 1

In the city that never sleeps, Tony Stark worked the night away.

Bright lights made it seem like daylight in the workshop, and Tony bounced his left foot wildly as he bent over the desk to make some adjustments. Inventing was as effortless as breathing to Tony Stark—it always had been.

Avengers Tower was now a place that bustled with life and energy. Not that the structure had been particularly quiet before the Avengers called it home, but it wasn't Stark Tower anymore. Much of the time, this made Tony glow with pride—disguised beneath layers of practiced sarcasm and indifference, of course. Right now, Tony was itching for some alone time—a.k.a. workshop time.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., I need you to run diagnostics one more time," Tony said.

"Of course, sir," the AI answered. "Shall I increase the input to both receptors?"

"Yeah," Tony muttered, still distractedly tinkering with his new toy. "Oh, and J.A.R.V.I.S., if it's going to blow up this time, how about you pull the plug before then, hm?"

"Sir, if I recall the incident you're referring to correctly, you insisted that we continue that experiment despite my own words of caution."

"Don't sass me."

"As you wish, sir."

Tony stepped back from the table as J.A.R.V.I.S. ran diagnostics, hiding a smile with his left hand. J.A.R.V.I.S. had inherited some of Tony's personality, and took after his creator with a touch of snark.

New information populated the displays around Tony, who studied them intently. He absently folded down the hem of his t-shirt, smoothing the fabric as he processed the new data. Satisfied with what he saw, he smiled and clapped his hands, rubbing his palms together excitedly.

"Now we're talking," he muttered, picking up his tools and making two small adjustments. As soon as these were complete, he picked up the new gauntlet for his suit and smiled as the metal smoothly conformed to his hand. He opened and closed his fingers a few times, testing the flexibility of the new design.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., give me a burst at five percent."

Tony turned to face a reinforced wall—designed for trials such as this—and held out his hand, palm facing the wall.

"Absolutely, sir."

Tony noted the quiet whine of energy as the glove prepared to fire. A white beam of energy flared from the glove, hit the wall and _bounced off_ , ricocheting crazily around the workshop.

"It is not supposed to do _that_ ," Tony yelled defensively, diving for cover. The blast seemed to slow as it wreaked havoc, knocking over a prototype suit and toppling a rolling work station.

J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up with a hint of urgency, "Sir, you may want to move. According to my projection, the blast will hit Dr. Banner's workspace before it loses—"

The energy slammed into Banner's workspace, shattering beakers and vials that sat upturned on a towel to dry.

Tony had started to retreat from his unwittingly dangerous position, but hadn't made it far enough. As glass shards flew across the room, Tony spun away and covered his face with his arms.

He cried out as he felt a sharp pain beneath his right shoulder blade. After the initial pain registered, a dull, throbbing ache spread across his back.

"Shit, shit, shit," Tony breathed as he tried to reach around and feel the extent of the injury.

"Sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. intoned, "while the wound does not look life threatening, you may wish to seek out Dr. Banner for treatment. It is extremely unlikely that you are able to treat this wound on your own."

Tony sighed and fought the urge to roll onto his back—that would be a uniquely bad, and painful, decision.

"Where is Banner?"


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, Everyone! I am completely new at this, so I forgot to include my disclaimer in chapter 1, but here it is.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fictions using the world and characters created by Marvel. The characters in this story are created and owned by Marvel, and I do not claim ownership over them or the awesome world of the Avengers.

Thank you to each person who has taken the time to read my story! You're awesome!

"Where is Banner?"

"Dr. Banner is currently in his quarters," J.A.R.V.I.S. answered. "Shall I alert him that you've injured yourself?"

Tony glared up at the ceiling. "I didn't _injure myself,_ I was wounded in the line of duty," he grumbled. "They're different."

"Oh course, sir," the AI said, his tone somehow placating.

 _He shouldn't have a_ tone _at all_ , Tony thought, trying to focus on anything other than the searing pain in his back. But he had created the AI, and its character only seemed to grow with each passing day.

The workroom was silent for a moment, Tony's ragged breaths breaking through the quiet.

 _I couldn't have picked a different hiding place_ , Tony thought. _Oh no, I had to pick the one place where I would be assaulted by shards of glass._

Now he was going to have to face the music.

 _The day (and later the night) had flown by once Tony had started to tinker, but the morning hadn't been so pleasant. A beautiful sunrise had broken over the skyline of Manhattan, painting the kitchen and living area with long, yellow-orange fingers of light._

 _Tony had staggered into the kitchen after his customary two to three hours of sleep, searching for only one thing—coffee. He appreciated the sunrise, sure, but he needed his hit of caffeine to take in the beauty of the morning._

 _He shuffled over to the coffee maker, pouring a steaming glass into a mug emblazoned with a muscled Captain America. He took a sip of the elixir and muttered, "I can taste almost taste the spandex."_

 _I snort from behind Tony made him jump, almost sloshing his coffee out of the mug. One hand protectively hovering on the side of his coffee, Tony turned and glared at Steve Rogers._

" _Moring, Spangles," Tony growled. "Maybe next time you could just club me with the shield."_

 _Steve fought back a smile as he surveyed the rumpled billionaire. "Care for a run, Stark? I'm about to head to the gym."_

 _Tony moved over to the counter and perched on a stool, putting his coffee down with a snort. "Yeah, and lock in a mile for every one of your ten? I don't think so."_

 _Steve opened the refrigerator and drummed his fingers absently on the handle. He pulled out a carton of milk and then hummed his way over to the pantry and selected a cereal._

" _How are you so energetic in the morning?" Tony asked, rubbing at his temples._

 _Bruce answered as he shuffled into the kitchen, "Not even the serum could do that. He must have been just as ungodly cheerful in the mornings before that."_

" _Both of you look like you could use more rest," Steve said, a hint of concern lacing his voice._

" _Wow, Cap," Tony muttered sarcastically, "thank God you reminded me,_ lest _I forget to sleep or something."_

 _Steve looked slightly affronted as he poured milk over his cereal. "Just trying to help, Stark. You know, show you that I care."_

 _Tony smirked. "Don't get your patriotic panties in a bunch, Stars and Stripes." He paused. "Wait, did you_ seriously _just put that back?"_

 _Steve looked at Tony in confusion, brows pulling together. "Did I put what back?"_

" _The milk, you fossil. Did you just put an empty carton back in the fridge?"_

 _Steve raised an eyebrow at Tony's tone. "No, there was a little left. I don't want to be wasteful."_

 _Tony stalked over to the fridge, yanking open the door and pulling out the carton. He shook it back and forth aggressively in front of Steve's nose. "Do you hear anything sloshing?" Tony asked. "Then there's probably no milk in there."_

" _Easy, Tony," Bruce said. "It's just milk."_

 _Tony whirled to face the scientist. "It's not just the milk," he said, frustration clear in his tone. "I opened up my home to you and everyone seems to think we're college roommates or something. Clean up your damn messes."_

 _Bruce blinked at Tony, clearly surprised that this was a true point of frustration. Tony occasionally exploded over small things, but usually recovered with some sarcastic humor and a few well-placed insults._

 _Tony snatched his coffee and strode out of the kitchen, yelling over his shoulder, "oh and stop messing with things in my workshop. I'm talking to you, Land of the Free. J.A.R.V.I.S. tells me when you come poking around to look at things."_

 _Bruce and Steve sat in shocked silence for a moment. Steve blushed a little and said, "I'm just trying to learn about modern technology. It's not like I'm hurting anything."_

 _Bruce nodded. "Of course, Cap. I'm sure he didn't mean it. He's had a short fuse this week."_

 _Steve grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and sat at the table to tie his running shoes. "I know Miss Potts is away on business, but it would be nice if he didn't take that out on us."_

" _I don't think that's it," Bruce said, absently running his finger around the rim of his coffee mug. "Well, I think it's related. He doesn't sleep as well when she's not here. He's never come out and said it to me, but I can see the signs."_

 _By this time, Tony was down in the lab, starting to work on his new gauntlet._

Excellent _, he thought._ This should keep me busy for hours.

Back on the floor of the workshop, pain flaring through his back with each beat of his heart, Tony moaned to the empty air.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., Banner better be on his way."

Then, more quietly.

"Why am I such a jackass?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's chapter 3, folks! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. I love hearing what you think of the storyline and characters! Happy Reading!**

Tony squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them wide, working his mouth to keep the trickle of sweat from trickling its dumb-ass salty self into his eye.

Sticky blood had begun to trail from the wound to Tony's other shoulder. It itched and tickled at the same time, creating an irritant to add to the throbbing pain from the glass.

"J.A.R.V.I.S.," Tony growled, "What's taking Banner so long?"

"He should be here any minute, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. answered smoothly. "I alerted him to the nature of your injury, and he is collecting the necessary medical supplies. I believe Captain Rogers is with him."

Tony groaned, more out of irritation than pain. He muttered to himself about over-attentive super soldiers and slow-poke doctors. He knew the wound wasn't _that_ bad, he just couldn't reach it himself. Despite that knowledge, he was started to get a little nauseated. He could _feel_ the glass moving with each breath, tearing skin and muscle. Tony was no stranger to pain, but he never seemed to get used to it.

"Tony! God, what happened?" Banner burst into the lab, arms full of medical supplies.

Tony gave a half-hearted laugh, hoping to make light of the whole situation. "We had a little misfire—totally not my fault—and it destroyed your beakers."

Bruce looked around at the upturned table, scorching on the walls, and the general mayhem in the lab. "Little misfire, my ass," he huffed.

Just moments behind Bruce, Steve strode into the lab. He simply raised an eyebrow at the destruction, and picked his way through the broken glass to Tony.

Tony felt Steve's hand gently touch his shoulder, "are you okay?" Tony winced in spite of himself, trying not to make a sound.

Bruce made his way around the mess to Tony's face, crouching down to get on his eye level.

"Tony, did you hit your head?" Bruce asked, examining Tony's pupil reaction with a small light in his hand.

"Maybe just a little bit when I dove for cover—hey stop that—" He squinted at the light in his eyes, "but nothing too bad. I've been concussed before, I think I know the feeling."

Bruce sighed, and Tony could tell he was fighting an eye roll.

 _You've been practicing your bedside manner, Doc,_ he thought with amusement.

Tony felt his muscles clench involuntarily as Bruce examined the glass shard in his shoulder. His hands were gentle, but the slightest movement seemed to turn up the volume for the already unpleasant throbbing.

Bruce's face popped back into Tony's somewhat obstructed view. "We're going to move you to one of your work stools," he said. "Do you feel like you can sit up while I stitch you up?"

Tony snorted. "I had surgery performed on me in a cave, I think I can get some stitches while sitting up."

Bruce's eyes narrowed, as if he was analyzing the statement for bravado. He seemed to come to the conclusion that this would have to suffice, and motioned to Steve. "Cap, if you can get him to the stool and make sure he's steady, that would be a great help."

Steve nodded tightly, ever the soldier. He scooped Tony up as though he was a child, trying to be gentle of the injury. Tony screwed his eyes shut, holding his breath as the pain shot through him.

After some extremely uncomfortable bumping and arranging, Tony was settled on a stool. The steel table top in front of him provided a nice place to lean his elbows. Tony sat as still as possible, listening to the pounding of his heart in his own ears. Tremors shot through his back muscles, causing him to pant with pain and discomfort.

Tony felt a prick near the site of the injury, and made a quiet sound of protest, swaying where he sat. He felt Steve's warm presence to his left, and leaned against the super soldier.

"Tony," Bruce said patiently, "that was just a local. I'm going to remove the glass in just a minute and start on stitches."

Tony stared dully at his friend, feeling the throbbing pain begin to slowly decrease.

"You got lucky," Bruce continued, "the subdermal damage isn't too bad and you should have a really cool scar."

Tony gestured at the arc reactor in his chest, "I've already got a pretty cool scar."

He felt Steve huff out a little air, and turned squint up at Cap. "Bruce, come quick, I got it to laugh."

Steve covered a smile and turned their attention back to the matter at hand.

"Do you need me to do anything while you remove the glass?" Steve asked.

Bruce shot a quick glance at the super soldier and went back to prepping his tools. "I would grab that trash can in the corner and bring it over."

Steve followed orders and quickly returned with the trash can. He set it over by the doctor, and went back to Tony's left side to provide support.

"Okay buddy," Bruce said to Tony. "Let's get you all fixed up."


	4. Chapter 4

**I am absolutely not a doctor, nor do I have any advanced medical knowledge. All of my information came from quick google searches and reading. If I get anything wrong, please let me know. I'm always looking to learn!**

Bruce removed the glass with deft motions, pressing cotton gauze to the wound to slow the bleeding. Tony licked his lips and cleared his throat as the glass was removed, trying to identify the strange feeling that had just washed over him.

"Um, Bruce…" Tony trailed off as he felt a tingling in his fingers, face, and feet. His stomach turned and he went cold. He grabbed weakly for the trash can and barely got it to his mouth before he retched. He tried to clamp down on the rest of the nausea, but quickly lost the battle. When he was finished throwing up, Tony shakily wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Ugh," Tony groaned. "What the hell?"

Bruce looked over the rims of his glasses and muttered distractedly, "you just had a sympathetic nervous system response, Tony. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yeah, but I get hurt literally all the time, and this has never happened before," Tony said, hearing the misplaced pride in his voice after the words had left his mouth.

Bruce chuckled and spoke in measured sentences as he worked. "It may have been something particular about the location or feeling of the glass being removed. It doesn't mean you're sensitive to pain or anything like that."

Tony looked over at Steve, who had been quiet and was looking a little paler than normal. Tony was feeling a little better, and he was pleased to feel some of his snark returning. "Are you gonna barf too, Cap?"

Steve shot Tony a dirty look and made a small sound in his throat. "Nope. I'm fine."

Tony sniggered, because the Star Spangled Boy didn't look fine, but Steve didn't leave Tony's side as Bruce worked to lay in stitches.

By the time Bruce was done, Tony was feeling drowsy and relaxed. The adrenaline was ebbing in his system, and as it faded, his eyelids began to droop.

Steve gently helped Tony to his feet, keeping an arm under Tony's uninjured shoulder. "Can you walk, Tony? I can carry you if you need me to."

Tony glared at Steve and tried to access some real indignation. All that came through was a tired sigh and a feeling of belonging.

"Nah, I'll be fine, Cap," Tony said.

That didn't stop Steve from hovering protectively as Tony made his way up the stairs to the common room. Bruce collected his supplies and followed them.

"So, this is definitely the injury talking," Tony began, "but thank you for patching me up."

Bruce made a soft noise from behind Tony and Steve snorted. "Of course we patched you up. Iron Man wouldn't be as much help if you weren't bouncing around in the suit."

Tony fought the tired smile and shoved at Steve's arm. "I _am_ Iron Man, you star spangled lunatic."

Steve and Bruce got Tony settled on the couch in the living area. They could tell from the tone of his voice that he was falling into a light sleep, but he had one more thing to say before he slipped away.

"I may even let you guys stick around, but only if you throw out your empty cartons."


End file.
